My take on the Gates arrest

President Obama is a very smart man who knows that in his position that he has to be very careful with his words. I understand why he would have to pull back from the use of the word “ Stupidly” in reference to the Cambridge Mass. Officer’s action of arresting a man for mouthing off in his own home. I believe that President Obama initially had the same punched in the gut reaction that many Black men in America feel when we hear about the police profiling, intimidating, or arresting a brother based on his “attitude” Take a poll of 100 black men concerning this issue, I estimate that 75 of them could tell that it happened to them. Many of them could tell you stories (particularly when they were in their teens and twenties) about a specific humiliating incident that could have easily turned into jail (or even deadly) if the cop didn’t like their attitude. I strongly disagree with those who think that Dr, Gates actions were those of a elitist during the incident. “Do you know who I am” or “Do you know who you’re messing with” are words that many of us brothers never got a chance to say when we found ourselves in situations that left us confused as to how we got in this situation in the first place. Words can’t describe the depth of shock that happens when law abiding you becomes an instant suspect . Amadou Diallo, Sean Bell, Oscar Grant , and countless others were killed by cops in the blink of an eye. Here is an example from own life that illustrates how fast a good day becomes a nightmare :

It was a rainy day about 15 years ago. I got a call from my agent about a last minute audition. Back then I had a baby face, but he told me to dress young because the role was a teen. Now I wasn’t a teen then, but I knew that what he meant was to go baggier with the jeans, looser with the shirt, and a backwards baseball cap. The appointment was downtown below 14th street somewhere- I lived in the Times Square area of NYC. On my way to the Port Authority train station, I saw the #10 downtown bus. I made a mad dash for it. Suddenly I was tackled from behind and face down on the sidewalk with a black boot on my back. “ Don’t move!” were the words that went with the sound of the walkie talkie above me. “ I didn’t do anything” I said . “I’m not gonna tell you not to move again “ said the voice. From my sidewalk view I could see that it was two cops. Just as quickly the foot was off my back. “ Its not him” the other cop said. A call must of come through, because they took off leaving me on the ground (without any explanation or apology). In this heavily traveled tourist area , I was the current freak show. People stared at me as if they had seen some NYC bad man brought down by the tough boys and blue.(Muddy clothes now and wet) My heart was pounding fast and my hands were shaking when I picked myself off the dirty sidewalk. I also realized how lucky I was to be alive. You see it happened so fast that I didn’t have time to react. They didn’t know that they were “messing” with a good man. I was a black man running for a bus in the wrong place at the wrong time.

How does this connect to Dr Gates on other levels? It seems to me that young black men are targeted much more often. The older that I get, the less I feel profiled. I believe that one could feel that they graduated from that after a certain age . It feels like it comes with the territory when you are a younger brother. I teach my son and other youth to never argue with the police. They can’t gauge what the cop believes the threat level to be. Sure adults should do the same thing-however in Dr Gates case: 1 He had already proven that it was his house 2- He was jet lagged 3- he was way out of practice in terms of reacting to policeman’s attitude / on the same note- don’t old men get some kind of cantankerous pass 4- When does a person have the right to protest in his or her own home? 5- shouldn’t the cop have adjusted his own response? 6 Was his neighbor standing outside with a cell phone (it must have added insult to injury seeing her not come to his defense)? 7 – There are other examples of Black men(particularly students) at Harvard and In Cambridge being hassled or falsely accused –sometimes our rage explodes when enough is enough.
My intention here is not to demonize cops. Cops are people who bring many of their own biases into situations. They also are given the task of responding to whatever call comes through. I understand that. My problem is that it seems much easier for law enforcement to arrest or shoot black men, then it is for them to see us as human beings who have the right to outrage when being targeted unfairly.

Harlem On My Mind Part II- A historical poem

I wrote the first verse of this poem many years ago. Upon my return to Harlem as an adult, I realized that I had romanticized it in my head. A reality check was seeing a homeless man sleeping in front of an neglected building that was once the great nightclub Smalls Paradise. I imagined him knowing the history of all of Harlem. Harlem now is filled with great shops, housing, entertainment, and housing( for those that can afford it-another blog topic to come). Thanks to all of the people that stayed in Harlem to help to build it back. Also good luck to all of the entrepreneurs who are trying to build here. This poem is a 1988 reflection ( updated with history and facts that I've learned since then)

When Smalls Had It All

( A dream in the head of a man sleeping in the doorway of the former Small’s Paradise in the Village Of Harlem NYC 1988)

By Daniel Carlton


Pt 1
Dreams Birthed

When Smalls had it all
I wish I’d been there y’all
Mama’s face
Daddy’s Grace
A tree of hope standing tall
Apollo sounds
Dreams abound
The Promised Land found
Rise Up You mighty race
Beauty in a child’s Black face
Garvey’s parade is coming find your place
Splendor on hats Sunday strolling avenues
Numbers hits providing those revenues
Seven steps to heaven climbed with brand new shiny shoes
Too clean to sit down with those weary blues
Hey lady in red aint you heard
Langston Hughes been writing Harlem’s words?
Sitting in parlors with Dunbar’s talented tenth
Down the block is a party so that folks can pay the rent
Zora’s telling tales bigger than Jonah and the whale
Reds on speaker’s corner trying to get the Scottsboro Boys out of Jail
Bearden’s brush
captured so much of a migration of a people leaving Jim Crow in a rush
Even in great depression
The Savoy’s dance floor was cooking- class is in session
For Ellington’s best take the A train next
Come Sunday Satin doll
The Alhambra ‘s hosting a ball
Drink up that bootleg backroom gin
Or sit on a stool at Connie’s Inn
Up in and down the avenue’s one happy shout
Joe the Brown Bomber knocked that sucker out!

PT II
Making medicine out of poison/ or making dream music in spite of the poison

Fading glory
A written off story
Tenements still holding remnants
Of dream checks that can still be cashed
Not deferred yet but running out fast
If you listen carefully
And walk don’t run
There is a sound found in the heart of a slum
Gabriel’s trumpet was sent down to earth
To Minton’s Playhouse for Bebop’s birth
Dizzy and Theolonius Monk
Hitting notes so fast
That even the air jumped
Drumbeats combined lightning and thunder’s thump
Not coming from the sky
But flying while high
The sax sang songs of the quickest notes heard
Charlie Parker soars- a concrete yard bird
My Funny valentine went on for miles
Broken hearts mixed with styles and smiles
Catch that Trane if you can
A love supreme for every child, woman and man
There was a new escape from the streets that only needed a spoon, needle, matches and came powdered in a bag
A new ages plague yeah dig baby skag
Nodding out on the corner cigarettes in mouths still smoking
What went on their dreams?
Cause the devil wasn’t joking


Part 111

The Evolution Of Revolution/ Dreams die hard /Can you dig it?

Ungawwa Black Power
Raised fists in the air
Brothers and Sisters growing conks out their hair.
Dashikis are the fashion of the day
What’s happening brother/sister was the greeting to say
Conga rythms and poetry in the park
Black and beautiful pride in being dark
The Vietnam war was snatching brothers up
They wasn’t coming back right-heads back in nods instead of held up
The FBI didn’t dig all that black pride
Informers were planted in the Panther’s insides
Many of our leaders assassinated by bullets
Dreams die hard But everything breaks down if from all sides you pull it
Power to the people didn't get all the way done
Disco distracted /the goal became having fun
Angel dust blew many minds apart
Prisons filled up/ With the young who never had much of a fresh start
Attica uprising died down with a massacre
The folks of Harlem normalized disaster
Crack Attacks
Fade to black
Now Rats crawl out of Smalls
Shells of men
Sleep with them
When Smalls had it
I wish we’d seen it y’all


* The location of the former Smalls is now the site of the excellent Thurgood Marshall High School

Remember The Time Part II-Or why I can't be angry with Micheal Jackson anymore

Anyone who knows me (or has read the last post) knows how much I really loved Micheal Jackson. I must admit that for years I was really angry with him also. Around the time of the "Bad" album it seemed very clear to me that he was running away from physical "Blackness". Now I believed then and now that all cultures bring their own flavors to the gumbo of humankind. This is a good thing. It is even better when cultures and dare I use the term races come together to share , learn, mix, and groove with each other. I don't believe that one race holds a superior edge in this mix. But watching this transformation in MJ made me ask myself," Does he hate his black features or is this just out of control performance art?"
Some background :
When I was a kid, growing up fatherless, I would read books by Black revolutionaries to help give me some kind of idea of what a committed to his people/family Black man was all about. I would read with fascination their stories of facing down the state, police, and their own less evolved pasts. I fantasized about these big afro -fists in the air brothers being my dad. I would be their righteous son taking their place in the struggle when the state inevitably came down on them. Malcom X's story of growing out his conk in prison was to me the ultimate metaphor for doing whatever it took to get your black mind right. Those stories planted a lifetime seed in me that allowed me to know that you can celebrate you without hating yourself or others. I never found my place with the cultural nationalists-their view wasn't inclusive enough for me. Although I could dig where they were coming from. Reading this you might assumed that I lived through the times that they wrote about. I was only a little boy when these events went down. Most kids my age would call me Little Militant(as sort of a joke)- I mean in the 70's my childhood peers were on a different trip. Just as fatherless as I was, many found pure escapism in pop soul culture to be enough. There was enough of it. The Soul music and culture of the 70's was the bomb.From P Funk to Philly Soul-Soul Train to The Love Train- Ohio Players to the Commodores-the funky seventies were smoking,. Stevie Wonder alone was worth the price of a ticket into a time capsule. Here come the Jackson 5 in this equation. Something for us kids that was just as funky as the stuff that the older people were listening too. Their look alone clearly said here are the children of the 70's dancing our big afroed, leather fringe vests, platform shoes, and unapologetically Black dancing machines into the hearts and minds of all the kids in America. It wasn't stated -it just was. I can't say that most of us kids wanted afo's for revolutionary reasons. We wanted Jermaine's afro and all of the cool things that came with that. Mostly style -certainly not political- The Jackson's were us flavor to the nth degree( meaning black kids). I'm not saying that they just belonged to us-it's just that they were that big in our world that we had no clue that other cultures even dug them. When Off The Wall came out, it was my first understanding that Micheal was world wide. The White , Latino, and Black kids all wanted to rock with you and wouldn't stop until they got enough. How cool was that?!. See now what we've been digging all of this time? Thriller was-World Wide -jam of the planet music! We are the world and the global mission of Live A.ID were beautiful. White, Black , Brown , and all folks coming together for the good of all.
So what happened to this brown man who brought our beauty and soul to the world stage? I know that he stated that he had a skin condition. OK that's cool, but your nose is getting smaller.Your jheri curl is turning into straight up relaxed hair. Are you dissociating yourself from your Afican features? Are we not beautiful enough? Is someone telling you to do this? My nieces and nephews didn't even know him as a brown person anymore. What is the message that it sends them? I understand some of this I think? I mean I actually got a jheri curl once because he had one. No actually I don't. His music was still brilliant and slamming -but I'm more than a little hurt by the rejection. By the time Invincible came out, my 8 year old son didn't believe that he was the same person from my old J5 Christmas album.
That is where I was.

This is where I am now with all of that:

1 Micheal was in a tremendous amount of psychological/emotional pain. I can't speak for how deep those cuts went. Maybe this was a form of self mutilation.

2- MJ gave all to his art-who am I to question his choices? He certaintly lived with more than his fair share of ridicule and criticisim

3- Maybe he thought that he was physically transforming himself into a non racial World Citizen .

4: This brother has probably given to more causes that affect Black and other folk than hundreds of people combined

5- His problems-pain killers and otherwise may have affected his judgment.

6- He never left us. He had too much soul for that.The Apollo Theater celebrations are proof positive that you can come home . The multi- racial mourning shows how much Everyone loved him

- At the end of the day-MJ smashed through all of the barriers of race/culture class -the world mourns him -may he rest in peace-the demons can't get to him anymore

Thank You Soul Brother MJ!

Remember The Time

Michael Jackson Memories



The King Of Pop left this earthly plane today June 25, 2009. I “never can say goodbye”
Like the rest of the world, I can trace so many great life moments to memories connected to him.

When I was a little kid in the 70’s, my brothers and I would pretend that we were the Jackson 5/Jackson's. It was always a battle between my younger brother and me as to who would be Michael. Sure my brother had the sharper dance moves, but I was committed enough to lose my voice if need be to hit those high notes (not very successfully without cracks eventually-but the passion was there). We would do “Dancing Machine” and my older brother Gary would rock the robot like he was getting paid for it. I We won a talent contest once (I humbly submit) with me singing lead on the song “Ben” I got a early bootleg taste of the dream. Those Jackson’s had the clothes, the girls, the moves, the money, the respect, and the dream come true of leaving “the ghetto” They were older cooler versions of who we wanted to be. Everybody had a favorite Jackson. I admit that I thought that Jermaine was smoother, but Michael was the one that all of the girls my age swooned for.
Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough and Rock With You gave a very shy(with the girls)young brother an opening to the dance floor . I moved my one leg up and down in sort of a stomp, then I would spin and throw one arm in the air. It sounds ridiculous I know, but I really thought that I was channeling MJ.
And then there was Thriller! Whoa-there was a time when the world was Michael Jackson –and then the rest. PYT, , Human Nature, Wanna Be Starting Something were all like separate pieces of musical magic that were included with Billie Jean( I saw that Motown 25th Show live when he threw down the hat and commenced to turn it out), Beat it , and the video that is in everybody’s consciousness since it unveiled – Thriller. Before MJ, besides Prince, videos with Black Artists were cheesy and cheap looking. Those record companies were not spending more than a nickel. MJ busted out Billie Jean and changed the game. That sidewalk lighting up alone was mesmerizing. And the winner is…. Michael Jackson (every award). In Thriller album time you could turn on the radio and hear a different MJ song on different stations all playing at the same time, I never cared for the message of Beat It-but those guitar chords sure sounded good. I had a choice between going out with a girl that I was fiending for months who finally agreed to go out with me-or to see The Victory Tour-Dallas show ( last minute ticket ) blame it on the boogie-the girl was lost to me forever-but that was hell of a show.
The bigger he got, the less interested I was. I was more of a Prince guy. Not that he wasn’t still BAD, it’s just that my taste was more hardcore. My nieces loved him. Remember moonwalker the movie? They would wear that tape out- a new generation with their own memories.
I must admit that I’ve done some MJ parodies-but one can only do that if a person is that etched in the collective consciousness. I recently challenged a group of students to hear a MJ song without wanting to dance or reflect.
I was never sure what to think about the charges against him . There were some disturbing allegations for sure. However that Jacko business(press) was always the height of disrespect.
Race, class, age, and musical boundaries – MJ transcended them all

Please Support a Brother-Here is a show that I'm testing at a VERY small space in NYC-The Weeksville monolouges and some new pieces -flyer below*

* Voices From The Edge XII All Performances at NPTC456 West 37th Street(at 10th Avenue)

A Dozen Years of Celebrating New Works By African American Writers and Performers
Tuesday, June 16 – Sunday, June 21, 2009 Including: DANIEL CARLTON'S
Memories of Self: Journey to Weeksville

A one man show – dramatic, funny and enlightening!

And : A Block Of Time 50 Years On one Harlem Block ( work in progress)

Brooklyn’s unique HISTORY!/ Harlem World

Weeksville was a self-contained,
free African American community in Brooklyn in the 1800’s-early 1900’s made up of property owners—a safe haven for many during slavery, the draft riots, and many challenges facing African Americans in America.
This dramatic presentation comes alive through fictional monologues based on historical events. Journey into the lives of these five men who survived and triumphed against incredible odds!

Poignant… Brings history to life… Moving… a rarely-told story…
And
A Block Of Time:50 years/ five Stories/One Harlem Block (a work in progress)
Both
Written and performed by actor/storyteller Daniel Carlton

June 16th 8:00pm Memory of Self: Journey to Weeksville, The Opening Night Panel includes Daniel Carlton along with Woodie King, Jr., renowned producer and director of stage and screen, as well as the founder of the New Federal Theater; Donna Walker-Kuhne, Founder and President of Walker Communications International Group and acknowledged expert on audience diversification; and Charles Weldon, Artistic Director of the historic Negro Ensemble Company TICKETS: $25 For Opening Night with Panel and Reception

$10 for all other performances 212-630-9945contact@nptnyc.org

June 17th 6:00pm A Block of Time: 50 Years on One Harlem Block

June 18th 6:00 PM Block Of Time

June 20th Memories Of Self:Journey To Weeksville 8:00 PM

Where I Roam, Every Single Soul Is A Poem-My dream is not a joke softly sings the 11 year old in a homeless family shelter

Picture This : A NYC homeless shelter for families. The exterior is a converted hospital. To get through the doors one must pass through armed security guards after showing I.D. This is your process as a visitor.You them show ID at a another table. “May I help you? “ drips with sarcasm, because you teach a class there every week. If you are a resident the process involves you and your children going through a metal detector also. No matter that your children may have to use the bathroom. The bored guards drunk on the perceived power of the situation send some of the people back through several times as if they are taking a flight to a country on a terrorist watch list. Poverty must be a crime, because the high level screening process seems to go way beyond the safety of the residents.” Ahh , but everyone is protected” you say “They are only doing their jobs” , one can reasonably argue. Although I disagree with the overboard aspects of it, I hear you.
Fast forward to the computer/rec room. I am teaching a theatre class (for kids) with a musician and a young assistant. Many of the other kids haven’t arrived yet from dinner. This is a perfect opportunity to work with a very shy young lady who doesn’t quite understand all of the creative magic that she possesses. She is about 11 years old . You know that preteen awkward gangliness that within the span of the blink of an eye can do a turn that would make an Alvin Ailey dancer proud only to dismiss it within the same time frame? She almost in a whisper says “I wrote a song” . She pulls it out of her pocket and turns around because she doesn’t want us to look at her while she’s singing it. The song is titled “My DREAM IS NOT A JOKE” . Straining to hear her, the musician begins to play softly under her. She hears the melody from the piano and begins to sing much louder with more confidence. The look of joy and concentration on her face is priceless. Suddenly a shelter cop on duty bursts into the room with his walkie talkie on full blast. He yells out to the rec director “ Your order is here!” Assuming that he didn’t see the child singing, I give him the shh we’re working signal. Now I understand in retrospect that I should have walked across the room and pointed out the situation to him Maybe it would have made a difference in terms of the energy that led to the following exchange:

Me : Excuse me sir, but we are working here.

Cop: Who the hell do you think that you’re talking to?

Me: This is a class. We’re working with the kids here. This is rude

Cop: I can walk into any room that I need to here. I don’t give a damn what’s going on.

Me : Wow that’s deep. You’re disrespecting this kid and us when you just yell into a room

Cop: I’ll respect or disrespect anybody that I want to. ( He puts his hand on his nightstick) You got a problem with that?

Me: Yes

(call comes through on walkie talkie-he gives me a menacing look then leaves)

Another kid who had been observing this weird confrontation: Mister Daniel, they do that all of the time

Me : Kid I promise you that I’ll take the hit before I’ll allow an adult to disrespect you in any situation that I’m in. Don’t say anything before class. Just get here so that you can use your voice in a way that taps into your creative power. No one can take that away from you.

The rec director then says something really deep to me. He says, “Everyone from the top down in a homeless shelter becomes institutionalized.” Social workers, cops, and clients all normalize disrespect.” I could be talking to someone about something that they need, when all of a sudden someone who thinks that they have a greater need will interrupt me as if the person that I’m talking to wasn’t even there” He also said one the greatest things that anyone has ever said to me “ You’re one of those people that can’t ignore injustice”

The happy part of this story: The kids sang full out that night “MY DREAM IS NOT A JOKE” Our 11 year old singer songwriter couldn’t stop smiling.

Music Sweet Music

Lots of thoughts about music today. Several events have inspired this somewhat random collection of music meandering.

I just brought a new netbook. Whenever I buy a new computer, one of the things that I have to do is add my entire music collection to it. I have thousands of cd's , so this is no one or two hour task. I discovered on this go round that the artists that have the most cds in my collection are Miles Davis, Stevie Wonder, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Funkadelic, Various Brazilian artists, Prince(Symbol included), Fishbone,U2,George Duke,Marvin Gaye , Herbie Hancock, Jay Z, Cassandra Wilson, and Eryka Badu. Two surprises were Dianne Reeves and Keb Mo. I didn't realize that I liked them like that. Oh yeah I also have more than my share of Marley music( Bob, Ziggy, Damien, Kymani)

I mourn the inevitable death of record stores. My best friend after High School owned a small shop twenty years ago. He turned me on to so many sounds. Before his tutelage I thought that Jazz was just for old people. Although his shop didn't last, it gave me a lifelong love for music stores. I loved Tower Records for it's listening stations that included written invitations/descriptions to try out music that was new or outside of the square boxes of pop. A third of my collection probally resulted from either browsing through the store or listening at the stations. R.I.P Tower. Virgin Records is now closing in NYC. Floors of CD's, posters, memorabilia, Music DVD's, and all of the visceral pleasures that are part of walking through a music store will be gone forever. In NYC we've also lost The Wiz, HMV , and The Record Shack on 125th in Harlem. I Tunes can't replace that.

Tonight I Saw the Jazz At Lincoln Center Orchestra here in NYC and run by Wynton Marseilles. I have a real respect for Mr Marseilles' mission. He is making sure that there is a home that allows living masters of Jazz to play in an institution completely devoted to its art form. He has players of all ages and many cultures in the orchestra. They all solo.They all do arrangements. They all can play their asses off. He also gives so much history in both the music, and his spoken intros before the tunes. I have experienced some serious concerts there.

Grab a person under the age of 25 and force them to listen to an entire CD from start to finish. Imagine separating Joni Mitchell's Blue, Mile's Kind Of Blue, Parliament's Mothership Connection, Sgt Peppers Lonely Heart Club Band, John Coltrane's Love Supreme, Stevie Wonder's Innervisions(or any 70's Stevie for that matter) Lenny Kratviz's Mama Said,Pink Floyd's Dark Side Of The Moon, Hendrix's Electric Lady Land, Bob Marley's Exodus,Marvin Gaye's What's Going On?, or any work of music that is connected into a beginning middle, or end into singles for ring tones? Many of the above mentioned albums are before my time. Some older person(s) pulled my coat and said "check this out"

Beauty, Blackness, And the heartbreaking Statement Of A 14 Year Old Girl - reposted because I Wonder If A Michelle Obama Effect has trickled Down

I just read an excellent series of statements about Michelle Obama's beauty and power in this week's New York Magazine. Respected writers from all cultures acknowledged both of these qualities. I wonder if things have changed since the campaign and election for this 14 year old girl that I wrote about a year and a half ago? This post is from 07. Hopefully we are in a remix.


As long as I live,I will never understand the level of cruelty, self hate, misogyny, various phobias( homo and others), and forgetfulness that happens in our African American Community.We have these issues for sure. We are working on them.Why is darker skin still a weapon that is used to tear down a person's self esteem?
Now I'm no" Pull yourself up by your bootstrap" Booker T Washingtonian republican with disdain for our people. I don't subscribe to Bill Cosby's pound cake stealing thug who should stay away from the pristine Spellman College debutantes theory. I recognize that we have never collectively recovered from slavery, Jim Crow, the murders of our leaders and warriors, or the myriad ways that White Supremacy has worked it's number on us. I even understand first hand how hard it is to escape both the ghetto and it's psychological effects on your brain. Just erasing the word Nigger from my thoughts took a mental revolution of epic proportions that didn't happen in a day or two. What I don't understand is how in this day and age I could hear the statement that I recently heard from one of my 14 year old girl drama students.

" I didn't know how Black and ugly I was until I came to this school."

What??????

With 40 -50 years of Maya Angelou's, Essence and Ebony Magazine, Roots, Malcolm, Spike Lee, The Panthers, Oprah, Toni Morrison, The Color Purple/Alice Walker, e.t.c why are we still here in 07? This is a school that exists mainly of students of color. There are no nooses connected to dubious and arbitrary prosecutions of Black children. There is not a chapter of the KKK presided over underground by the principal or the math teacher. She was not being escorted by the National Guard while the good White citizens of the town spat on her. This happened in Brooklyn ,NY. Jackie Robinson ( a dark man) led the Dodgers to the baseball promised land. Spike Lee admonished us to do the right thing. Dark Shirley Chisholm ran for President of The United States here. The community of Weeksville was built here by a Community of free Black folks who owned their own property and businesses . The most diverse grouping of African Diasporan Peoples on the planet lives here. So where in the hell did this 14 year girls peer tormentors get the idea that dark skinned people are ugly?
It's an old idea that is clearly not just perpetuated by both white supremacists and lighter skinned members of our race. Why won't it die? Why is it still the show stopper of insults? Why are the darkest people on the planet some of it's most oppressed?
I don't want to cast aspersion on Brooklyn as the self hate capital of the U.S. Here's another story that involves a friend of from Harlem: My friend, a well respected actress was involved as a volunteer on a trip that took a group of Black and Brown young people on a trip to perform as part of a national theatre festival. At some point during the trip a discussion took place amongst some of the girls about hair. One of the hair weaved young ladies got into a heated argument about good hair with some of the more conscious young ladies. Finally in exasperation one of the young women asked her to point out an example of good hair. Hair weaved 16 year old pointed to my regal short Afro wearing friend and said "It aint that". My friend was crushed. You see this is a person who spent time in the movement. This is a person who has dedicated all of her adult life to an aesthetic of Black Pride and upliftment through the arts. This is a person who although not a star, has major peer respect in the business. This is a person who brings quality Art In Education with an equal passion to the children. This is a person of beauty.
There are many people who feel that the ideas of the sixties and below are outdated . Many believe that "Say it Loud , I'm Black and I'm proud " belongs in the museum of quaint played out old school. But maybe those Langston Hughes Poems aren't meant for the oppressor to see our "beauty and be ashamed". Maybe we need to dig into those crates to find the beauty in ourselves. Are little black girls still reaching for that blond doll as the standard of beauty?
To fling my arms in some place of the sun
Dance whirl dance
Till the white day is done
Then rest at cool evening
A tall slim tree
While night comes on tenderly
Black
Like Me
quote from Dream Variation by Langston Hughes

Harlem On My Mind Part 1

*When Smalls had it all.
I wish I'd been there y'all. Mama's face and daddy's grace make a tree of hope standing tall.
Langston , Garvey,and Zora Neale created words about that Uptown feel.
X's Text-Ellington's A Train next
-migration's test created the best.
* The previous writing is from a poem that I wrote shortly after moving back to Harlem from Texas in the late 80's. "When Smalls Had It all " The Smalls that I refer to is the former great nightclub in Harlem called Smalls Paradise. The ending lines of the poem:
"Tenements aren't good remnants of the glory that was.
Now Rats crawl out of Smalls.Shells of men sleep with them.
When Smalls had it all-I wish we'd been there y'all."
Of course now in the 00's , an Ihop restaurant sits in that spot.The building also includes the excellent Thurgood Marshall Academy for Learning and Social Change. Like so many positive changes in Harlem, this came about because of The Abyssinian Development Corporation which is an organization of the historical Abyssinian Baptist Church. I mention this to show how far back from the brink Harlem has come. Thank goodness for all of the active organizations and churches that are trying to empower the folks of Harlem as best as they can in this Uptown of fast changes that have gone from one extreme to another. Those extremes include neighborhood establishments( many long term) going out of business due to high jacked up rents while luxury apartment buildings are being filled up with tenants even before they are finished being built. This mecca for so many who were literally forced to live there during the early parts of the 20th century is being rebuilt, re-imagined, rezoned, remixed, and redistributed to the richer amongst us . For those Harlemites lucky enough to have profited from this boom I say "More power to you" For those pushed out who provided goods and services to a community that for years was disenfranchised and undervalued I say "What a damn shame! " Gentrification is not new to many urban areas. The difference with Harlem is its place in the annals of American History. The stories of so many of the Who's Who of giants of Black began or were developed in Harlem . Langston Hughes, Ralph Ellison, Dubois, Marcus Garvey, Zora Neale Hurston,Billie Holiday, James Baldwin, Duke Ellington, Malcolm X, many Be Bop pioneers ,writers, painters, e.tc all called this slice of the Apple home. The East side of Harlem was fertile ground in the development of Puerto Rican American culture. From the tobacco fields of Virginia to the Hills of Jamaica and all points of African American and Afro Diaspora points between , Harlem was more than a destination; It was an idea known throughout the world. However when I was a little boy in Harlem my world was closer to the one that Claude Brown (Manchild In The Promised Land) and Piri Thomas ( Down These Mean Streets) described in their excellent coming of age in Harlem memoirs. Although my time was twenty years later than theirs, many of the ills that led to it's described decline were in full effect. My mother was relieved and grateful that she could move the family upstate(shortly afterwards to Texas) where junkies,liquor stores, bucket of blood bars, violent schools, abandoned buildings, and visual poverty weren't all part of both the landscape and mind states. My memory didn't involve just the negative though. Wide avenues, music everywhere, block parties, The Apollo, play streets, the mix of West Indian/Southern U.S/ New York accents, and the smells of Soul food also stayed with me as memories of what I knew was the most unique place on the planet. I learned so much about Harlem history while away from it. A woman that I dated a few years back said that I have a Mecca idealized version of Harlem that has nothing to do with it's current state. She could be right. It is very difficult for me not to imagine all its history while strolling Lenox Avenue. I wonder as I wander its streets about the stories of the people who walked them too. I marvel at the architecture of brownstone and limestone houses. I am fascinated by the sights and sounds coming out of it's playgrounds and parks. I take long walks through the heights of Sugar Hill.Broadway and Amsterdam Avenues have become extensions of The Dominican Republic. The bodegas are full of music, light banter in Spanish, and coffee with a kick. 116th street on the west side looks like West Africa consciously deposited some of its people as a new kind of treasure for these shores. My walks allow me to feel that I am walking through both the past and the present. My son was fascinated with the history shown as he and I sat through a film showing of Harlem History during an open house at The Apollo Theater. He told me later that he didn't know that so much had happened at that theater for so many people. The beauty of his revelation is that it wasn't forced fed to him by me.The images spoke for themselves. I highly suggest to anyone reading this that you attend the open houses hosted there by the excellent Billy Mitchell.
What is Harlem for the residents who are coming in droves because of gentrification? Is it simply a good deal that they can't resist? Or will they add to a new kind of history? Is the lack of sustained outrage about people and small businesses being replaced due to the fact that the powers that be and the displaced see it as eminent domain? Are these higher income folks good for the community? Will there presence improve the schools? Are all of these corporate food chains a sign of progress or capitalism at all costs? Most of my favorite Soul Food places are gone. Why didn't we protect places like the historical Record Shack( http://www.observer.com/2008/real-estate/record-shack). Why is The Mart on 125th, a former location of independent vendors still closed? The streets do seem cleaner. Is it because of the new attention being paid to our community? I must admit that some services are better( same question as the prior one). For years, one had to go for blocks just to find a bank;Now they are everywhere in the neighborhood. The food in the supermarkets seems fresher than it was.
I don't want to put it out there that I think that all of the changes in the "new" Harlem are bad. I must admit that I was slightly amazed and amused at the glittery view of Harlem that is shown on a recent show involving a group of self absorbed 20 somethings called "Harlem Heights" on BET . It looked pretty good from the very limited and highly edited version presented to us. Is Harlem becoming a tale of two cities? Are the wealthier amongst us looking down from their brand new sparkling glass towers at the still too many poor or struggling with disdain or indifference? Our Hamlet still leads the city in some of the more negative and challenging statistics also. Is Harlem still a place where the creation of culture is still considered to be one its greatest contributions? Is there trickle down economy at work that will benefit all Harlem residents. Will Harlem as we understand it from the past even exist 20 years from now? Is being a Harlemite a residential thing or a state of mind? I moved back to Harlem 10 years ago after living in midtown for most of the 90's. I was always in Harlem anyway. I wonder as I wander its streets why anyone wouldn't feel the soul?

The N word by any other defintion or use smells just as bad to me

Nigger is a noun in the English language, most notable for its usage in a pejorative context to refer to black people, and also as an informal slang term, ...
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nigger -

Picture this: A crowded New York City Subway car on it's way to Brooklyn . The time
is a little bit after 3 in the afternoon. Many school aged kids are in the car. They are sharing space with the multi-cultured passengers who make up the mosaic of strap hangers on their journeys . The kids are loud , rambunctious , and slightly annoying in terms of the volume levels that accompany even the smallest of exchanges. " Yo, my nigga you going to your cousins house?" says one clearly Latino girl to her possibly African American friend. "No my Nigga , I'm going home " The possibly African American girl screams across the crowded car while trying to exit through the cramped doorway. Other kids enter and exit. Variations of the "my Nigga exchange take place. After so many years of hearing this in various locations and situations , I am still not desensitized , Every time I hear it, it reverberates as a reminder that there is a cultural consciousness battle that has been almost completely lost. I have heard all of the arguments about the word being transformed, detangled, and stripped of all evil because it has been inverted by its use as a both a term of endearment and a acknowledgment of realness. I have tried to understand a statement from a very intelligent friend who said to me once in the presence of a white man " We have bigger problems to deal with as a culture than the distraction of worrying about that word." I have witnessed an older White teacher allow his students to call him their nigger. His defense was that the Black and Latino students weren't doing any harm to him by calling him that. I was once called "nigga" by a 10 year old kid in Croatia who thought that the word was an informal greeting (reserved for the rare chance that he would actually meet a real Black person).
My middle school aged son is a witness to the surrender to this word. He says that teachers and staff at his school act as if they don't hear it. I tell him that in terms of the kids, he can't correct his peers. No one wants their teenage peer to be the language police. I am just glad that he hasn't surrendered. Before I do Black History month monologues in schools of characters who triumphed during Jim Crow , I have to preface them with an explanation of the racist/deadly connotations of the word as expressed by characters who either say it or hear it.
I understand the whole Stagolee badass describing himself in this way historically. That was a folk art way of trying to turn it around. Dick Gregory, Richard Pryor, The Last Poets, e.t.c were all trying to shatter cultural barriers, shock the status quo, or make people aware of a whole world that was treated as invisible or problematic by the mainstream. I get that.I also know that many of them later expressed some regret about their choice of that word to show authenticity. They nor rappers created the word. The original intent of the word was dehumanization. I think that it still does that. I asked one of my students how she felt about being greeted by her friends with"Whats up Nigga?" She says that in her head she says to herself" Couldnt you have greeted me better than that?" I feel that. So many people who have no connection to the historical pain attached to the word think that it's some kind of joke. Another young person (AA) who I am very close to had a post on her facebook page from one of her white friends that said "See you later my Nigga" . My friend said that she didn't even notice it until I brought it to her attention . It is not uncommon for many non Black people to greet each other that way in the presence of Black people. Many Latinos in NY use it even more than we (AA's do)
Words have power. Am I oppressed by the word ? No I'm not. Am I bothered by the word? Clearly it irks me to no end. When African American kids use it in my presence I ask them not to. 99 percent have said "My bad, I'm sorry." Most know that it's not a great word. However we all allow it to flow so casually. I've always wondered how it is processed by non Black folks.

Post Racial? The NY Post is a Racist Rag

Some Black History Month Poetry Flavor from me at 9 years old-deep stuff folks-and thank you Ms Kent for recognizing the power of Black History month

Mrs Kent, the most influential teacher in my life, introduced to me so many things that would influence the rest of my life. Poetry, Black authors, Black Art, and the acknowledgment that I was a creative being were the gifts that she gave me in the third grade. The fact that she was White , may make this even more extraordinary. She recognized that Black History month introduced me to a higher idea of who I could be. Although this was thirty something years ago, I still believe that the magic of discovery and pride during Black History month is still relevant. She also opened up my mind to the greatness of understanding the history and art of other cultures.
Here is some poetry from the 4th grade poet that I became a year after Ms Kent's classes.

Warning Deep Stuff ahead :

Harriet Tubman
by me
Harriet Tubman
Bold Black woman
Risked her life for our freedom
Harriet you were wise
You followed the North Star in the skies
For our freedom



Langston Hughes
by me
You're the people's poet
Us Black folks surely know it
Your rhythm is the blues
you paid your dues
So that dreams I can use



My Afro
My Afro used to be big and fluffy
Then it became uncombed and stuffy
My mother said it has to go
No mama no
I cried and I cried
My mother said you're not going to die
And that was the end of my fro


The Flag
by me
Red and and blue only favors you
Red Black and green
Makes me a king
And my sister a Queen

A taste of where I'm coming from storytelling videos /folktale /monolouge/historical

If you are my facebook or myspace friend, you probably have seen these. This is some of my storytelling flavor. Just a taste....

An excerpt from my show Memories Of Self: Journey To Weeksville -"I Can Read Now 1890

In honor of Black History month, I submit one of the monologues from my show Memories Of Self: Journey To Weeksville. This is one of 7 fictional monologues based on actual historical events that I perform in character at the Historical Weeksville Houses in Brooklyn , NY. Weeksville was a thriving community of free Blacks during the 1800's and early 20th century. The community had its own schools, churches, newspapers, and other institutions. This place existed as home and refuge for Black people during extremely intense times of racist brutality, segregation, slavery, the draft riots, fugitive slave act kidnappings,and so much more. Only 3 houses remain( restored or recreated) . The acknowledgment and discovery has only happened over the last 30 something years. Please visit the site and take a tour of the houses. Here is the link www.weeksvillesociety.org Each of my monologues presents a character during a time of crisis in Black America. The following monolouge is the exception. It is a love story on some levels. 1890 Joshua Jones:

I Can Read by Daniel Carlton

Joshua Jones
1890

Evening all. What a fine beginning of dusk’s blanketing Brooklyn as it prepares for slumber. Fancy words for a man who works with his hands huh? Now everybody knows that I Joshua Jones can whittle, cut, saw, or measure any piece of wood that my hands get a hold of. My daddy who was a slave almost all of his natural days used to say to me “ Joshua, the Good Lord must have breathed on your hands while you was praying cuz their aint nothing, not even Massa, that can stop them fingers from doing what so never they want’s to. For all my life that’s been the God’s honest truth. It’s like I can see what it’s like finished before I even start. I tell you this though, I didn’t know that inside my head that I could put together letters that turned into words that I could write down and know. It’s like magic. To make a long story short, thanks to pretty lady Miss Kent of P.S 83, I can read.
Now that might not mean much at all to you children of these days and times. We been trying to build you a world here in Weeksville where reading comes naturally like breathing air. When you young, your mind takes in everything that you feed it. It aint like that after a certain time. After you done lived some of the trials and tribulations of this here life, you got to work to find more room in your head to go along with all the other things that you picked up along the road. And then you have to be able to undo all them voices that try to keep you blind and ignorant. It aint just the White man that I’m talking about. Some of our leaders are also saying that we shouldn’t be in such a rush to get our book education. Me, I’m casting my lot with with those that are helping me to get all that book power and magic that I can. I aint never heard of a White man being told to take his time
Now you probably wanting to know how Pretty Miss Kent went about getting me my start? One day about a year and six months ago she asked me to do some work for the school. She needed a new desk. After I told her how much it would cost she wrote down the price and some other words. I said “ Ma’am that won’t be necessary. I will take you at your word as you take me at mine.” Miss Kent Said “Mr. Jones, while we trust each other, the County of Kings may not be as understanding of a non-contractual agreement.” Then she said “ Forgive me if this comes off as indelicate, but can you read?” Now no one in my Thirty-Six years had ever asked me or cared to know the answer to that question. ‘No Ma’am I said.” “ We’re just going to have to see about that .” She said. I only been scared of a few things here and there when I was little, but just for a second there my grown man heart skipped a beat. Little ones learn reading and figuring every day; we grown folks don’t want to look weak in front of other grown folks. I said “ I appreciate your kind offer, but I will only take you up on it if you allow me to teach you how to carve a likeness of your favorite animal out of wood. “ It’s a deal.” she said.
Now I don’t think that I need to go into the particulars. I’ll just say that she carved the prettiest elephant that you ever laid eyes on. Me? Well you all tell me how I did. I wrote her a bit of poetry and I aint sure that it’s good enough for her for giving me the greatest gift of my natural life. Here it goes :

Like Prometheus Bound
Or sky without view of the ground
Like square alone without knowing round
My mind was held in partial down
For when a Man knows not the letter nor word sound
He is like a king without his crown
Or a face that knows only frown
Your spell was cast / It freed my thoughts
With many words to read or jot
Losing ignorance is a battle hard fought
Of all the things I’ve ever bought
None are worth more than the things you’ve taught.

*The entire show is available for booking. Also workshops and performances of separate monologues based on 1-The Fugitive Slave 2 The New York City Draft Riots 3 Escape from Slavery 4 Double Consciousness (W.E.B Dubois) 5 WWI Harlem Hellfighters 6 Literacy 7 A performer forced to wear burnt cork 8 -Black life in New York City at the turn of the twentieth century

Blackface For An Oscar-Damn are we traveling in circles? Jim Crow was also thought of as just a funny blackface character

Blackface - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Blackface in the narrow sense is a style of theatrical makeup that originated in the United States, used to take on the appearance of certain archetypes of American racism, especially those of the happy-go-lucky darky on the plantation or the dandified coon. Blackface in the broader sense includes similarly stereotyped performances even when they do not involve blackface makeup.
History · Authentic or counterfeit · "Darky" iconography Source: Wikepedia




The Minstrel Show gets nominated for an Oscar. Wow. We as a culture have so little memory or respect for historical madness as long as it can be called "just entertainment. Al Jolson, D.W Griffiths, The White Amos and Andy,Ted Danson at The Whoopi Goldberg roast, Old Jim Crow and all of the happy darky faces by White Men in cork, are all joined by Robert Downey Jr in the full circle of actors or entertainment that pokes fun at the idea of Blackness or Negritude.
Before I go on, I must qualify a few things

1- I don't hate when cultures blend to produce art. I truly believe that a good part of Rock and Roll's greatness is because of the Rhythm and Blues, Folk,and Country music all mixed and mashed to make new forms out of the sounds and stories of many cultures. Most musicians and groups that achieved greatness in the form acknowledge that they borrowed( stole?) from the architects like Chuck Berry,Bo Diddly, Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, e.t.c. However, would any of us accept Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, The Beatles, Led Zepplin, e.t.c in Afro wigs. The same goes for hip hop. Although we all admire hip hops roots in communities that produced a whole culture in spite of the fact that the creators were without a whole lot of resources , would we admire or respect Emminim if he put shoe polish on his face in the name of "keeping it real" because he came from the same type of enviornment? I admit that it took me some years to acknowledge the universiality of Hip Hop culture. Slang coming out of the mouths of people who were living out their Black language fantasies was how I perceived the speakers. It's like they could have the fun without the pain of everyday, driving while black , suspected because of Black, or denied because of Black.
I know that we can learn from each other's cultures. It just seems to me that the old minstrel character gets resurrected every decade or so. American entertainment from very on used the childlike darky as a source for material. If you ever get a chance to see that cinematic shit Birth Of A Nation, you will see how destructive those images have been for the collective acknowledged full humanity of Black folks. That was a very popular movie during its time. Thank God for Marcus Garvey's Black Pride mantra in the early twentieth century. Most of the talented Black entertainers of that time period (1900 -the 1920's had to wear burnt cork to blacken their brown faces even more-so that they could work under the mask of the accepted racist ideas of who we were in this country. Al Jolson made a mint playing the opposite(White man-blackface) . The Character Jim Crow was actually created by a White actor around 1830He may have been the first to do it. He is certaintly not the last.
Where is the outrage about this Oscar nod? 1830 and 2009 are universes apart in terms of change. Or are they? Thank God for the nation's movement to elect President Obama. He and his beautiful family smash down some serious walls in terms of the stereotypes perpetuated by pop culture. Many of our past icons have done the same. Can we please bury this offensive idea? I hope that we make some noise about this. I have a pretty good sense of humor. Some stuff just isn't funny. Degradation through imagery is pretty serious business

Dr King Is Smiling

Enjoy
The photo is from "The Nation"
If you need help identifying everyone -let a brother know. I would be happy to do so
Today is for the past, present future, ancestors,slaves/slaveholders,Oppressed/oppressors , children/adults ,civil rights workers, human rights workers, people of all cultures in America/world citizens ,the witnesses to the past , and those yet to make their mark.The sky is not the limit. Yes we can!
Today the walls of my cynicism have holes that you can see hope through

If Its Magic, then why can't it be everlasting? If? If If Part 2

This is my if , hmm (?), never thought about that, I wonder as I wander, endless possibilities, keeping it unreal, smoking maybes , choices and consequences riff on if. After contemplating, shaking your head in disgust, nodding in agreement , or just bugging out on the flavor of what you just savored-please feel free to answer the following questions-or post your own ode to the twilight zone tone of this post (your own magic ifs).

*Denotes Lyrics from the song" If It's Magic?" by The Maestro Stevie Wonder


* If It's magic, then why can't we make it everlasting-like the sun that always shines? Like the poet's endless rhymes? Like the galaxies in time?*


1 If we were all blind, what would be our standard of attractiveness in another person?
Would their intelligence, voices (vocal tone),conversation , energy,or feel to the touch ( and what would be the etiquette of that?) become the ways in which we would determine who's hot?

2 If you could go back in time to observe any single event in history , what would it be?

3 If you could only own one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?

4 If you were a master musician and could choose 3 other musicians to work with you to create a masterpiece , who would they be?

5 If you could have one wish come true, what would it be?



* If it's pleasing, then why can't it be never leaving? Like the day that never
fails? Like on seashores there are shells? Like the time that always tells?*



6 If Obama had lost, what would you have done?
7 If you could spend 30 minutes uninterrupted with any living person -who would it be?

8 If you had a superpower-what would it be?

9 If you could throw a shoe at a world leader -who? why?

10 . If you could breath underwater or travel through space without needing air-which one would you want?


* If it's special, then with it why aren't we as careful as making sure we dress in style? Posing pictures with a smile? Keeping danger from a child?*



11 If you had a television spot that gave you 5 minutes to broadcast your message to billions of people all over the world, what would you say?

12 If Love is the answer, what is the question?



* If it's magic, then why can't we make it everlasting-like the lifetime of the sun. It will leave no heart undone. For there's enough for everyone?*



Bonus quote: De La Soul - You're smoking maybe's and ifs. And if if was was a splif -we'd all be hiiiiigh!

If If If IF? part 1

I remember a question posed to me at some point during my teens. The question was " If we had a Black President would that mean that we were free at last" I actually never gave much thought to that because -That would never happen in America. Well clearly and thankfully I was wrong. "Free at last?"-I think that we need to do a little more work in that department. We have traveled much further than my 85 year old stepfather would have ever thought possible. He was an airplane mechanic during WWII who had to teach the White kids under him everything that he knew -knowing that they would be his superiors in no time flat, He loves to talk about how proud he was of The Tuskegee Airmen and their superhero status for men like him. He sat on the backs of those buses in the South, averted his eyes to avoid eye contact, worked hard and watched less capable Whites get all the money and the glory. He raised a family to productive adulthood years before he met and married my mother (He is 20 something years older than her). He helped my mother and my sisters with my nieces without a complaint. I think about this question of "free at last" as it relates to all of the ancestors, older relatives, friends, and strangers who actually survived and accomplished a life during heavy Jim Crow and de facto Northern segregation - never mind slavery , reconstruction, and the great migration. If there is a question to be asked by those who both survived and triumphed in my opinion it would be" Have we overcome?" "Are we post racial?" If we are, where do we go from here? We have what was once thought impossible as our new reality If our child of the dream president doesn't live up to the expectations of so many, does it mean that we have all failed? If he triumphs is that a triumph for us all?

[IF]

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

--Rudyard Kipling